Vrolock sprinted his way past the tree. If he was to outwit his pursuers he need to make space between them. They weren’t aiming to kill him. As he cradled his prize over his shoulder they had an inescapably fatal shot. Instead the shrapnel whizzed past him and implanted itself in the rock at his foot. From another direction was marked a tree.

That was when he ran. He dropped his the puma and raced across the plains of Daradune. The Emperor’s gift to the Draken was perfect for hunting, but it was poorly flexible for combat. Trees were sparse, as were rocks large enough to hide behind. Hills aplenty, but going up a hill is slow and no one could know what laid around one.

He came upon a tree large enough to provide adequate cover. He dared not look back – he found those that did were the first to end up with a bullet between the eyes. Vrolock lingered behind the tree, doing his best to keep his breathing steady. He hoped his pursuers would give a sign of their direction – an attempted shot, the sound of footsteps, any type of noise. The most Vrolock heard was the hissing of the wind.

He peered around the trunk of the tree and saw nothing.

There was the crunch of grass underfoot. Vrolock turned around and saw the shimmering of the air as three Draken unveiled their cloaks. He considered his odds. It was three on one. The one on the left had a rifle. He couldn’t make out what type. The one in the middle had the wrist bands that would conceal an assault claw, and to the right was the obvious power sword.

They weren’t good odds, Vrolock thought to himself as he drew out his sword. But those odds were better than none at all.

He had no idea how long he was out. The pain pounded in his head like a steel drum, and he felt a rough tightness around his wrists. His shoulders ached. He tried to shake the pain and blurriness out of his head.

He blinked slurridly as his vision recollected itself. He wasn’t in a traditional Drakken tent or home. It was one of those quickly assembled contraptions, the type that constructs itself at the push of a button in seconds. The walls were made of a paper like substance with a name only one of those Green Men could pronounce. His wrists were sealed together by some type of paste – probably the kind that dissolved at the push of a remote button.

On the opposite side he saw a woman, Human, with black hair and dark skin.

It was lights out for Jane before she could make it back to the transport ship. A lingering thought popped into her mind, she hoped they would think to look for her...eventually.

sometime later

She came to slowly, her eyes straining against the dim light. The side of her head had sprouted a nice sized lump and her hair stuck to her ear and cheek. She looked at the black strands out of the corner of her eye. She was confused before she remembered the disguise. Right! It all started to come back to her.

The zap that laid her ass out cold, the bumpy ride in the back of the transport vehicle, all of it came rushing at her like a low budget holovid. "Damn" she muttered under her breath. A sound across the way caught her attention and she looked up, or tried to anyway. The pain in her head was excruciating. It took a few blinks to see what was sitting across from her. "Holy sh...." she didn't have time to finish the curse. Her stomach gave a lurch and she dry heaved in the general direction of the Drakken. Her field of vision went black save for the star bursts on the back of her eyelids.